


Called All Your Shots

by Makemegray



Series: The Weary Kind [4]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3410009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makemegray/pseuds/Makemegray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking at Tsuna and his famiglia, Iemitsu has always felt a pang of nostalgia.<br/>For the days when his bones didn’t creak and his spade was brand new.<br/>For the days when the bond with his brothers was just as solid as Tsuna’s with his guardians.<br/>He hopes against hope that Tsuna will never have to see the day when those ties break just as easily as any other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Called All Your Shots

Looking at Tsuna and his famiglia, Iemitsu has always felt a pang of nostalgia.

For the days when his bones didn’t creak and his spade was brand new.

For the days when the bond with his brothers was just as solid as Tsuna’s with his guardians.

He hopes against hope that Tsuna will never have to see the day when those ties break just as easily as any other.

He comforts himself that at the very least, he still keeps in regular contact with their Rain. Even before their children were connected he talked to Yamamoto Tsuyoshi on a regular basis, went out for drinks and at his restaurant every time he was home.

Now that Shamal is in town, it’s usually the three of them on these nights. Because even though the doctor is a Cloud –anti-social as all get out—not even he could pass up an opportunity to party like the good old days.

It’s almost the same if they avoid mention everyone whose missing.

If they don’t mention that no one knows where the hell their Mist could possibly be or that no one has spoken to Luciano in years.

If they don’t mention those two graves on a hill in Napoli.

They reminisce about the times that don’t leave an ache in their chests and Iemitsu can pretend that the grey isn’t overriding the blond and that his familigia is still famiglia and not just a bunch of tired old assassins who have delusions of immortality.

Tsuyoshi is much more optimistic. Like his son, he looks on the bright side and sees this whole aging thing as a blessing rather than a curse.

Because how many Mafioso actually live into their 40s, even after they’ve retired? When he sees that nostalgic look glaze Iemitsu’s eyes he slaps him on the back and shoves another bottle of sake into his hands.

It’s not that he isn’t aware of what frightens his friend. Of the fact that every time Iemitsu sees an obituary in the paper, he has a mild panic attack before he realizes that no one he knows is listed. If Tsuyoshi was prone to fits of nerves like the Sawada’s he would never get anything done. He would be too busy cowering in a corner of his shop and panicking every time there was gossip about what the Vongola kids were doing these days. How the Tenth’s Rain Guardian almost bled to death during that last fight.

He’s much more zen about the whole thing. He takes a queue from Nana and pretends to be ignorant about what Takeshi is doing because it stresses his son out less. And he takes a queue from Luciano and pretends that he never had anything to do with the CEDEF except on those nights when his famiglia comes stumbling through the door seeking to self-medicate.

He doesn’t mention that he thinks Iemitsu is just speeding up the inevitable by destroying his liver. He’s not supposed to be the cautious one. So he grins and offers up his best sochuu and sashimi and gets out the photo albums. Setting another place because their Cloud is sure to be in soon.

The next person who walks in the door doesn’t smell like cheap perfume.

He smells like Tuscan air and expensive leather and Tsuyoshi gapes for a good while as a fedora is hung on the hack rack and a stream of lazy Italian is muttered to the people who are no doubt currently surrounding his restaurant.

A hand cards through salt and pepper hair and Tsuyoshi’s shocked stare is met by a level green one.

Iemitsu is too busy drowning himself in alcohol (another grey hair. They usually required binge drinking.) to notice the silent staring match by the door.

It’s nearly a minute before Tsuyoshi slowly grins and dives into rusty Italian excitedly, rounding the counter to embrace Luciano and lead him to the empty stool.

Iemitsu is just as shocked when their Storm sits and the alcohol makes him weep all over what is sure to be Armani or something equally expensive and Luciano grimaces as the other man clings to him.

He looks up at Tsuyoshi for help and finds no sympathy in the smug grin and turns back to comforting Iemitsu, trying to keep up his drunken slurring between Italian and Japanese.

He knows it’s his own fault. He’d been an idiot and a selfish asshole and he deserves everything that will come to him on this visit. From his famiglia and from his children.

When they manage to pry Iemitsu away, Tsuyoshi convinces Luciano to try sushi for the first time in 20 years and he can admit that maybe he’d been wrong when he was young and naive and had protested about how foul it was to eat meat raw.

It’s a minor mistake over all that have come before and Tsuyoshi only smiles that enigmatic smile when he says so. Because he was the Rain and it isn’t his duty to rub things in.

One day, Luciano will be able to tolerate that smirk, but he has a feeling that he and his son are more alike than people give them credit for.

It takes longer for Shamal to warm up to him again. When he lifts the flap and announces his presence at Takesushi loudly, he stops and narrows his eyes.

For his part, Luciano isn’t sure whether he should thank Shamal for taking care of Hayato all these years or if he should punch the asshole out for making his boy so independent.

Shamal sits on the other side of Iemitsu and doesn’t respond to the Sky’s drunken tears. He humors Iemitsu when he points out how this gathering is even better than ever and ignores Tsuyoshi’s pointed looks.

No matter how pissed Luciano may be at him, he’s sure that he’s angrier. On whose behalf, he hasn’t decided.

Tsuyoshi is an instigator however and when Iemitsu adds a few more languages into his slurring he slyly mentions to the blond that he should have Shamal and Luciano help him home. Their former leader latches onto that suggestion and slings his arms around the two Italian men, careening towards the door, thanking Tsuyoshi for the sake and sushi and propels them out the door.

Iemitsu is the only one who talks during the walk.

When they reach the Sawada house it’s three in the morning and while Iemitsu is struggling with his keys, Nana comes to the door in her robe, eyebrow raised. Whether at her drunken husband stumbling in to collapse in the front hallway or the two men on her doorstep is unclear.

“Shamal-san…Luciano-san…thank you. Would like to come in for a cup of tea for your trouble?” The chilly tone in her voice makes it clear that she’s only being polite and they politely decline.

When the door shuts, it’s Luciano who turns though Shamal speaks first.

“We’re going to talk about this. “ He says, lighting a cigarette and ignoring the fact that Luciano’s frown is deepening. “Not now, because I can’t look at you without wanting to poison puppies or something….but eventually. We may not ever have to see each other again after this week but I don’t want to end up killing you during your daughter’s wedding reception.” He considers the matter done and Luciano is tempted to follow him.

He’s tempted to shoot him with the baretta under his suit jacket. The only reason he doesn’t is because he knows it would only make Hayato even more pissed at him. And just when his son might be starting to believe in him again, Luciano isn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that.

He tips his hat and walks back to Takesushi where a shot and a knowing (fucking irritating) grin are waiting for him.

He has things to talk to Tsuyoshi about as well…

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I've never posted this here before. This is was the story that started The Weary Kind. 
> 
> I also just realized that I posted these out of order in timeline. So for the ones that are posted now, the time is this: 
> 
> The Weary Kind  
> See Right Through You  
> Called All Your Shots  
> Crazy Heart
> 
> There are more in this series that flit in between the ones I've posted and I'm finally getting back into KHR enough to write them. So I'll update this list at the end of every story.


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